


Monsters

by snowpuppies



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-06
Updated: 2009-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowpuppies/pseuds/snowpuppies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Eden had met her share of monsters. Or so she thought."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters

Under different circumstances, the view would be breathtaking.

But Eden wasn’t looking at the vast plains or the lush vegetation. She didn’t notice the vast, open sky or the setting sun that slumped against the horizon. She couldn’t hear the birds…or feel the breeze…

All Eden could see was the canyon below…

 

***

 

_She mostly remembered the shouting. Every night, she’d lie awake and the memories would come, like some sort of warped record, cruelly repeating itself over and over and over…_

_Most nights, her nightmares began before she could even go to sleep._

_It was so unfair, really. She had full-color, surround sound memories of her dad and stepmother fighting—angry insults and breaking glass and the smell of cheap whiskey—but the memories from **before**, when her mother was alive and her dad was sober and she felt safe and warm and loved, were only a vague impression of happiness that did nothing to alleviate the misery she felt._

_Her father had left, three weeks, four days, seven hours and thirty-seven minutes ago, left her with a stepmother that didn’t want her and an ache in her heart that she knew, somehow, would never go away._

_She felt so **alone**…_

 

***

 

“Miss…”

Startled, she looked up. A man in wrinkled pants and horn-rimmed glasses was standing next to her, offering her a hand. Blinking, she took it and stood, wiping the dust from her jeans with the other hand.

“Eden,” She said, reclaiming her hand, “Eden McCain.”

“Ms. McCain, I’m Agent Bennet.” He turned, gesturing for her to follow. “I’ve got a few questions to ask, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, not.”

Eden was mostly still in shock, but one thing was clear: she _couldn’t_ go to prison.

She followed the agent to a blue sedan where a tall dark-skinned man was leaning against the hood. Bennet reached for the door, gesturing for her to get into the car.

“I think you’ve asked enough questions.”

Bennet turned around, cocking his head to one side. “What was that?”

Eden straightened, putting more force behind her words. “I think, Agent Bennet, that you’re finished asking questions. You’ve found nothing suspicious.”

Bennet smiled, shaking his head from side to side.

“Eden, Eden…you ought to know better.”

 

***

 

_She’d met Tom at a truck stop in Kansas._

_He’d worn cowboy boots, a leather jacket and an easy grin._

_Tom was unlike any man Eden had ever met._

_Of course, that wasn’t saying much, since Eden had never really met any men other than her father. During high school, she’d been much too busy for boys, and she’d always secretly feared what her stepmother would say—or **do**—if she’d ever brought a boy to the house._

_Nevertheless, she’d liked Tom instantly. _

_She and Tom had literally bumped into one another between the canned goods and the ATM. After hitching all night Eden was dead on her feet, so when they’d collided, Eden lost her balance and began to fall, right into a shelving unit._

_She gasped when Tom’s arm wrapped around her waist._

_She’d blushed and he’d smiled, holding her steady until she regained her balance. They’d talked while Eden shopped, finally selecting a slightly dented can of refried beans—on sale—and a bag of store brand tortilla chips. It didn’t seem remotely appetizing, but since she was flat broke…_

_So when Tom offered to take her to dinner and give her a place to stay…_

 

***

 

Eden woke suddenly. She was on a lumpy cot in a room with four blank, white walls.

She had no idea where she was.

She didn’t even remember going to sleep.

All she could remember was…Mitch…

She buried her face in her hands; she was a _monster_.

“I trust you slept well.”

Eden jumped; she hadn’t heard anyone enter the room. It was Agent Bennet, she remembered him from before...

“I don’t remember going to sleep.”

Bennet smiled, sitting on the edge of the cot. “Yes, we…gave you a little help, there.”

Eden curled away. “What do you want with me?”

“To help.”

 

***

 

_Eden stormed away from Tom’s house, nearly stumbling on the curb. She muttered under her breath as she fiddled with the torn fly of her only pair of pants._

_As she made her way down the street towards the light of an all-night diner, the fear and shock gave way to anger and the strangest sort of devilish…**satisfaction**._

_She smirked, the sway in her hips becoming more pronounced as she fingered the bills in her pocket._

_She wasn’t at all ashamed of what she’d done—when Eden said ‘No,’ she **meant** it—and, really, he might have a chance of functioning again…**if** he got medical attention soon enough. It was simply **amazing** what doctors could do these days._

 

***

 

Bennet stood and sauntered over to the nearest wall, studying it as if seeing a priceless work of art painted on the plaster. In a moment, he turned. “Eden, words…can be very powerful things.”

Eden slid from the cot and backed away until she was against the opposite wall. There was no way...

“Men have done amazing things with words over the course of history.” He was pacing, now, back and forth within the confines of the small room. “The writer Thomas Paine helped start a war with his words. Mahatma Gandhi used his words to make peace. Nations and cultures and lives have begun and ended with the words of great men and women, Eden.” He finally stopped moving, choosing instead, to look her straight in the eye. “But none of them had the _gift_ with words that you do.”

Eden’s eyes widened; he _knew_.

 

***

 

_Juggling a box in one hand and a bulky clump of keys in the other, Eden let herself into the home that she and her fiancé would be moving into in less than two weeks. She had never been able to carry a tune, but that didn’t keep her from humming contentedly as she entered the house._

_Setting the box on the kitchen table, she hurriedly slit the packing tape. _

_They were **perfect**._

_“Mitch! They’re here!” She picked up one of the invitations to examine it, breathing a sigh of relief when she noticed that both names were spelled correctly._

_Her examination was cut short by a thump…_

_…and a giggle…_

 

***

 

She watched, with morbid fascination, as Isaac pressed the needle into his arm, the sharp tip sliding into his flesh, a droplet of blood welling against his skin.

Eden couldn’t paint the future, but somehow, she was sure that _this_ was not the way things should go. Bennet had said they were _helping_, that those with special gifts like Eden needed to be taught control and restraint so that innocent people wouldn’t suffer.

But convincing a rehabilitated junkie to shoot up?

Isaac’s eyes glossed over and he began to paint. The syringe, discarded, clattered to the floor. Bending down, Eden picked it up.

Being a hero was harder than she thought.

 

***

 

_“Eden, how many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”_

_“Sorry? You’re **sorry**?” Eden turned away, she simply couldn’t look at him, not after what he’d **done**. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen for such an asshole, couldn’t believe that **she** of all people had been taken in._

_“It didn’t mean anything, it was just…”_

_“Just what, Mitch?” She turned back to look at him—all puppy eyes and sincerity—at one time, she’d have crumbled under that look, but no more._

_Now it just made her want to heave._

_“Just…”_

_“You can’t even say it, can you?” Eden, flooded with disappointment, turned away and began to gather her belongings, stuffing things into her bag haphazardly._

_“Eden…”_

_She felt his touch on her shoulder and jerked away. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Mitch!” _

_The moment the words left her lips, Eden had known they were a mistake._

_She watched, in mute horror, as Mitch’s eyes glazed over and he calmly pulled his keys from his pocket and headed towards the door._

_“Mitch!” She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and bracing her foot against the wall. “Mitch, I didn’t mean it! Stop it!”_

_But the words had been spoken, and they wouldn’t be undone. In only a moment, Mitch had broken her hold and exited the house. Eden collected herself in time to see him get into the car._

_“Shit! Mitch!” Heart pounding in her chest, she raced towards him as he pulled out of the drive. For a moment, she stood, completely frozen, as she watched him speed down the street. With a gasp, she turned and ran into the house…_

_…and dialed 9-1-1._

 

***

 

When Eden was very small, she’d been afraid of the monsters that lived under her bed.

Then she grew up, and learned that monsters didn’t hide under beds, but walked around in the daylight with the rest of the world. They were cowards and predators and heart-breakers.

Eden had met her share of monsters.

Or so she thought.

Looking into the eyes of death, Eden suddenly realized she’d gotten it wrong.

She’d overestimated herself, and underestimated _him_, and now he was going to take her special gift, that which—for good or for bad—had shaped her into the woman she was, and use it to _destroy_.

_This_ was the monster; she was in his grasp, and he would devour her.

 

Eden drew the gun, flinching as she felt the cold metal press against her temple.

She might not be able to save the world, but she wouldn’t help destroy it, either.

Eden closed her eyes…

…and pulled the trigger.

 

 

_FIN_

 

Originally archived [here](http://snowpuppies.livejournal.com/113934.html).


End file.
